Tess's Challenge: What happened in Barbara's bedroom?
by Cats070911
Summary: In response to the challenge by Tess in Ch 22 of Strip about a ridiculous incident in Barbara's bedroom on a weird day two years ago. Her restriction - must be ridiculous and cannot end romantically. I think this qualifies, you can judge...


**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply. This is in response to Tess's challenge at the end of Strip Ch 22. If you have not read that yet, I suggest you read that first. But please come back! Her requirements were a ridiculous situation that would get Tommy into Barbara's bedroom one 'weird day two years ago'. Her rules were that it should not end romantically as they were not allowed to 'get together'. She did not say there could not be a hint of romance…

* * *

Although he was early, it was unusual for Barbara not to be waiting for him at the kerb or come bustling out of her flat after his first toot. Today was going to be another drizzly, London day and Detective Inspector Tommy Lynley was not in the mood to be kept waiting. He grunted and gave two more sharp jabs at his horn. There was still no sign of Barbara, so he muttered a curse under his breath then switched off his engine and climbed from the warm sanctuary of his car into the crisp morning air.

He marched up to her door and impatiently rang her bell three times. Still nothing. His fury began to give way to concern. He rang the bell again. "Barbara."

The door was flung open, but no one was there. Cautiously he stepped inside. "Barbara?"

"Get out you evil creature!"

"Havers?" Barbara stood in the hallway brandishing a large straw broom. Her hair stuck out at odd angles, and she was dressed in nothing more than an oversized man's shirt that came down to her knees. _Barbara has a man?_ His first reaction was shock which quickly gave way to anger until he realised it was his old shirt, the one he had soiled when he had pulled her from the swamp last month. _Why does Barbara have my shirt?_ He thought he had thrown it away.

Her eyes were wide. She looked like she had just seen a ghost. "Barbara, are you okay?"

"I have a poltergeist!"

"A what?"

"A poltergeist. An evil little demon who is destroying my flat!"

Tommy looked around. It looked much as it always did. "How can you tell?"

Barbara gave him a look that would have vaporised all the occupants of Dante's Seventh Circle of Hell. "It threw down my lamp and sat in my wardrobe and screamed then the closet door swung open and he ran in here."

Tommy frowned. Her face was flushed, and she was panting. He was oddly moved by her expression and swallowed hard. This was his partner. Helen had returned. They were happy. He should not have such thoughts about Barbara, especially when it was clear that she genuinely believed there was a demon in her flat. Tommy stepped closer. "Barbara calm down."

"Calm down? I. Have. A. Bloody. Poltergeist!"

"Barbara," he said sternly, "give me the broom."

Her eyes narrowed into slits, and she began to wave the broom at him. "Get thee away, Satan!"

"Barbara! I am not the devil!"

"You're protecting it! It wants me out of this flat." She looked around. "This is MY flat! I'm not leaving!" she screamed at the wall.

"Barbara!" he said sharply, "this is ridiculous. Give me that broom." Tommy made a lunge for the bristly end, but Barbara was quicker and gave him a savage whack over his head, making him swear.

"If you can't help me – leave."

"There's no such thing as poltergeists!"

"You know that for a fact do you? Just because you have a dusty old pile in Cornwall doesn't mean you know everything about evil spirits."

Tommy was about to argue when there was a large crash. Both of them looked at each other before turning to stare at her bedroom door. "See?"

Her tone reminded him of their worst days together when they had bickered and fought endlessly. _How could I even think I was attracted to this she-wolf?_ He took a deep breath. "There must be a logical explanation that relies on the physical realm and not the spiritual."

"Yeah? Well, you haven't been up all night listening to it dragging its nails down my bedroom walls!"

Tommy had had enough. He grabbed the broom from her hand and strode towards her bedroom. Holding it up, ready to strike, he slowly turned the handle. He pushed the door open slowly. Nothing rushed out at him or made a sound. "See, there's nothing here."

No sooner had he said it then there was a flash that caught his eye. It was fast and blurry and ran under her bed. He stepped back, straight onto Barbara's bare foot. She shrieked with pain and began to hop around her lounge room, cursing him in ways he had only ever heard sailors swear. "What the hell were you doing standing right behind me?"

"I thought I'd helped you corner it. I think you broke my toes!"

"Do you want to go to A&E or catch Polty?"

"Polty? You've given it a bloody nickname? What are you? Australian?"

"Hardly. I thought it might make him sound more friendly."

"Call him fucking Casper for all I care. Just get him out of my flat!"

Tommy could not help but smile. She amused him when she was angry. _Stop thinking about Barbara that way!_ He turned back and entered her bedroom. He was not sure what he had expected, but he had not thought she would live in a monastic cell. The room was plain except for a single timber-framed bed placed at a right angle in the middle of one wall, and an old wooden wardrobe in the corner beside a matching chest of drawers. There was a picture of a young, red-haired boy, who he assumed was Terry, in pride of place on top adjacent to two smaller frames. One was face down on the top, and the other had crashed onto the floor. Her bed was unmade and covered in a fluffy, dusty pink duvet. It was functional but devoid of life. It was not a room for living, and that made Tommy sad.

There was a rustling in the pile of clothes that lay in the corner behind the door. Without thinking, Tommy brought down the broom. When he pulled it up, something was clinging to the straw bristles. "Bloody hell! What is it with you and my knickers?" Barbara pushed past him to rescue her underwear.

A grey streak of lightening flashed between Barbara's legs and extended across her room. In one leap, she was one top of her bed, pointing and burbling incoherently. Tommy spun around and took a swipe with the broom. The streak flashed under her bed, and Barbara jumped down, knocking into Tommy in her haste. He went to move but tripped over the handle of the broom. They crashed together and fell onto her bed.

Barbara pulled her knees up between them as they lay staring into each other's eyes. "This is like an episode of Benny Hill," she exclaimed.

Tommy began to laugh. Something about this wild, infuriating and slightly crazy woman made him feel good about the world. Her face relaxed. All the terror and anger vanished behind her shy smile. Without noticing, their faces drifted towards each other.

Barbara froze. "It's Polty," she whispered, "he's behind you."

He turned slowly wondering what to expect. Sitting on her bed head innocently peering down on them was a small grey field mouse. "Hello, Polty. Will you let me catch you?" Slowly he extended his hand toward the mouse. He expected it to run but instead it walked nonchalantly onto his open palm. Tommy closed his fingers gently over him and petted him with his finger. "Come on then little fellow." He turned to Barbara and gave her a shrug and rueful smile. "I'll wait for you in the car."


End file.
